


Trifled Dreams

by lillianfromaccounting



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Crack, Depression, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Masturbation, Multi, Polyamory, Soulmates, Therapy, Unconventional Relationship, anti-soulmates au, mentions of - Freeform, probably not the soulmate au you are looking for, protect her at all costs, sharon carter is a saint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:04:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillianfromaccounting/pseuds/lillianfromaccounting
Summary: You had given up on finding your soulmate but the universe had other plans.





	1. Chapter 1

“So tell me again why you are here today,” Dr. March said. Even though you had been seeing her for months now, the way she pronounces her Ws like Vs still caught you off guard. Your brain flitted for a moment, admiring how strong her voice seemed, but at the same time, it was gently reassuring. She really seemed like she wanted to help you.  


“I haven’t slept,” you finally replied, refocusing on her original question. “It’s been four days. I get maybe an hour or two of deep sleep and then I’m wide awake and nothing I do helps me fall back asleep.”  


“This happened three weeks ago, and then you started sleeping better. What has changed?” Dr. March turned a page in her notebook and scribbled something on the top.  


“Nothing. I–well, last week, I slept with aid,” you recounted.  


“And we decided you didn’t need it anymore. Do you want to go back on the sleeping drugs?” she asked, peering through her horn-rimmed glasses.  


“No. I can’t. They make me groggy. There’s no good reason why I can’t sleep. You’ve seen all my tests. Everything is normal. I’ve done sleep labs and everything is inconclusive. There are nights that I get a perfect eight to ten hours of sleep, and then nights that I get zero. I just don’t know what to do anymore. It’s so unpredictable,” you sighed.  


“I know I’m not the first doctor you have spoken to,” Dr. March said.  


“Fourth.”  


“Yes. And there’s one thing we haven’t explored yet, but it seems you are dismissive of this theory based on your past charts,” she continued.  


“Soulmate detachment theory is a load of crap,” you spat. “Anecdotal at best. I’ve read all the studies. The sleep disorder ones involve couples who were long distance or spending a long time apart. I don’t have a soulmate.”  


“You haven’t met your soulmate yet,” Dr. March said. "Or at least you don’t think you do.”

“Millions of people don’t meet their soulmates and they live their lives just fine. There is no other scientific study out there connecting sleep disorder to lacking a soulmate. Even people who lose their soulmates to death don’t experience this type of sleeplessness.” You took a deep breath, realizing that your volume had gone up a notch.  


“There have been new studies,” Dr. March continued, “where it has been observed that soulmates who have met but haven’t touched can form a very strong bond. It was previously believed that touch was required to activate the bond, but the latest studies show significant evidence that having been in the same room at the same time could activate the bond, although your condition seems to indicate a more significant interaction. Perhaps you’ve exchanged pleasantries, but never touched. Or you were both wearing gloves or otherwise covered and there was no skin contact.”  


“Great. So some random person I brushed past in the subway could be my soulmate. I run a bakery in midtown Manhattan for fucks sake. Do you know how many random people I  _exchange pleasantries_  with every single day?! Any. one. of. them. could be my soulmate.” You threw your hands in the air. “And what does my losing sleep mean? Does this mean my soulmate knows that I’m their soulmate but I don’t know? I thought the bond initiation meant we would both know. Maybe I’m just otherwise broken? Are you sure it’s not a brain tumor? A brain tumor is at least treatable.”

“You are correct, in that bond initiation would be mutual. You would have known. So the likelihood is that your soulmate does not know that you are their soulmate, but they know they have met their soulmate,” Dr. March scribbled some more.  


“This is getting more and more ridiculous with every doctor I talk to, no offense,” you blurted.  


“None taken,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s a lot of information to take in, and a difficult concept for most.”  


“So you’re saying that I’m losing sleep because my soulmate is–thinking about me?” you tried to piece together some logic based on her theories.  


“Yes, most likely in a sexual capacity,” she replied without looking up.  


You lay down on the chaise lounge. “My soulmate is thinking about me during sex but they don’t know what I look like.”  


“Not thinking about you like in a fantasy, but yearning for you, for the feeling of fulfillment that a soulmate usually brings,” Dr. March’s gaze met yours. You searched her face for any sign of humor, but there was none. She was not joking.  


“Huh,” you finally said. “Well, sucks to be their partner.”  


“It doesn’t have to be a partnered interaction. Studies have shown that individual–”  


“You’re saying they’re masturbating at the thought of me?! What kind of bullshit science–”  


“The studies are pretty solid,” Dr. March insisted.  


“So why don’t I get any benefit from it? Shouldn’t I be feeling–anything sensual when that happens? Isn’t that how the bond works?” you muttered, questioning everything you’ve ever read about soulmate bonds.  


“It’s possible that you have, but did not associate those times with the insomnia,” she said.  


“There was nothing about the past four nights that had given me any sort of good feels or wet dreams or  _a n y t h i n g_ ,” you said, drawing out the last word for emphasis.

It wasn’t that you were sexually frustrated. You were just plain frustrated. Nothing was working to help you sleep, not even masturbating, so the notion that this soulmate of yours was getting their rocks off at the expense of your sleep was infuriating.

“Let’s change the focus of this conversation,” Dr. March said, turning another page. “Can you think of a time where you’ve had a particularly special interaction with a complete stranger. An instance where you might have felt a little dazed or starstruck? There may or may not have been any words exchanged.”  


“I don’t know–I meet tons of people.” You closed your eyes and rubbed your temples. “The bakery got a boost from the Food Network, so we get a lot of high profile orders now. I’ve met all-star athletes, movie and Broadway stars, award-winning performers–none of them particularly stand out. The only time I came even close to being starstruck was when we made a cake for Tony Stark and I caught a glimpse of–”

No way. It couldn’t have been. I mean, anyone would feel starstruck by the Avengers, right? There’s no way in hell that one of them could be–

“A glimpse of?” Dr. March interrupted your thoughts.

“The Avengers,” you said, opening your eyes to meet hers.

“Did any one Avenger make more of an impression on you? It could be something small–perhaps a scent, or their voice, or–”

“We locked eyes,” you finally admitted. “We locked eyes, and my surroundings faded away. Time stopped. But–but I just thought it was–it can’t be. There’s no way he’s my soulmate. I thought I was just in awe because it was–”

* * *

“Steve, honey, what are you thinking of?” Sharon looped her arm with Steve’s, following his gaze.  


“Um, nothing.” Steve shook his head. “That cake in the display just struck me. It’s calling to me.”  


“The purple one, that looks like a geode?” she asked.  


“Yeah, that one. It’s–different,” he said. “What do you think? Do  _you_ like it?”  


“It’s not what I envisioned for the wedding cake, but maybe it could be your groom’s cake,” she replied.  


“What’s a groom’s cake?” Steve pouted.

“Nevermind,” she chuckled. “C’mon, let’s go taste some of these before we decide on how it should look.” She led him to the main entrance and he opened and held the door for her.  


“After you,” he smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

The bell at the front entrance jingled.

“Your three P.M. tasting is here,” your assistant, Padma called from the front.

“I’ll be right there,” you replied. Wiping your hands clean, you picked up the display tray of cake, fillings, and frostings you had prepared earlier that day. You had been getting a lot of business from Stark Industries lately–usually birthday cakes or cupcakes and pastries for office celebrations. When F.R.I.D.A.Y. called and booked a wedding cake tasting the day after Tony Stark and Pepper Potts announced their engagement to a room full of reporters at the Avengers compound, you were beyond ecstatic, immediately gathering your arsenal of flavor profiles and researching different designs that might impress them.

“Have you been here before?” Padma was making small talk with the couple.

“No, this is my first time here, but we’ve had plenty of cupcakes from here, right hon?” a female voice replied. Pepper must be really excited. Her voice was higher pitched than you had remembered.

“The buttermilk cake is like something from my childhood,” a male voice replied. “Maybe that’s why this place has a strange familiarity, even though I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.”

The voice rang in your ears. You looked toward the window in the kitchen door and caught a glimpse of the couple. That was definitely not Tony Stark.

“Everything ok in here?” Padma popped her head in. “Do you want help?” You followed her eyes to your feet and realized that you had dropped all the silverware.

“Yes. Please,” you replied.

“Rough night again?” she asked, reaching into the cabinet for new sets of silverware. “I know a hypnotist that might help. Got the tray?”

You surveyed the samples on the tray again. “I think I need one more. I’ll be right out with it,” you said. You went into the fridge and pulled out a buttermilk cake.

* * *

You rolled onto your side and flipped your pillow to the cooler side. A quick glance at your alarm clock told you that you had two hours before you had to be at the bakery. You thought about what Dr. March said about your insomnia.

It felt voyeuristic to think about what he was doing at this hour of night–with his fiancee–Sharon. She was the definition of grace. Anyone could see how obviously in love they were. The way she finished his sentences–the way his hand wrapped around hers.

_His hands. So big. Firm. Easily fit a ten inch round._

You shut your eyes til you saw stars, willing the image of them in bed out of your head.

“Red velvet, hummingbird, Boston creme, devil’s food,” you recounted the list of cakes you had to bake later that morning.

_A firm grip on her hips. From behind._  

“Lem-on lav-en-DER, BUT-TER-MILK,” youcontinued, louder, trying to drown out your brain noise.

_His plump lips, the color of sugar roses, on her shoulders._

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” You pulled the pillow over your head and screamed.

* * *

“My soulmate found me,” you confessed. “He’s a client with the bakery. He doesn’t know it–the soulmate thing. And I actively avoided his touch, I shook his hand through an oven mitt.” A feigned laugh left your lips. You focused your eyes on Dr. March’s pen, scribbling away in her notebook.

“It sounds like you don’t want to approach the topic,” she said.

“I don’t.” You looked into her eyes. “Relationships never appealed to me. I was perfectly happy living my life until this whole soulmate nonsense. His fiancee is a lovely person, but I don’t even care who he is with. I don’t want to be with him. He has his life. I have mine. We’re perfectly happy living our own lives, without each other.”

More scribbling.

“Sometimes I wish I never took that first Avengers cake job.” Your stomach dropped, making you feel a little emptier on the inside. A sense of hopelessness washed over you. “I just want to sleep.”

* * *

Steve rolled over to his side, careful not to disturb Sharon.

“Steve, you alright?” Sharon slid over and wrapped an arm around his chest.

“Do you ever actually fall asleep?” Steve chuckled.

“Yes. I’m just really good at my job,” she smiled against his back. “What’s bothering you? Same dream?”

Steve nodded.

“Third time this week,” Sharon said. “I guess you really liked that cake tasting.”

“But I wasn’t eating cake in the dream,” Steve rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I was baking it. When have you known me to bake anything?”

“When we had adjacent apartments in D.C., you tried to heat up leftovers in the toaster oven and almost burned the place down,” she said.

“I didn’t know there was a greasy napkin under that burger,” Steve retorted.

“Steve, did you have a soulmate back in the 40s?” Sharon asked, tracing a finger over his shoulder blade.

“No,” Steve sighed. “I never found her–or him–back then, and when I woke up, I just thought that I wasn’t meant to.”

“Before Jonah died, we used to be able to get glimpses of what the other was doing when we were away from each other,” Sharon said. “It was like a vision, and came to me when I was meditating or falling asleep. I think you’re seeing bits of your soulmate’s life.”

Steve reached over and cupped her chin. “I don’t need a soulmate. I have you.”

“You don’t know what that tethered feeling is like,” she replied. “I think you should explore it. At the very least, you should sort it out before our wedding.


	3. Chapter 3

“Is this really necessary?” Steve stared at all the wires Tony was attaching to his bare chest.

“Look, you said you wanted a clear conscience, no strings attached. You’re doing this for Sharon, right?” Tony replied.

“We don’t know if this machine actually works the way you think it will,” Bruce whispered loudly.

“Rhodey, you ready in there?” Tony shouted across the lab.

Rhodey replied with a thumbs up.

“Wanda and Vision couldn’t help him. Strange is out of town, so to speak. We don’t have time to fly him to Wakanda, so our second rate tech will have to do for now,” Tony said, flipping a switch. “Besides, it’s not like it’s going to kill him or anything. Worse case scenario, he’ll get a really deep nap.”

Steve suddenly felt really tired, like he wanted to sleep. Tony’s voice faded away as Steve flitted his eyes shut.

* * *

“Why are you so against pursuing this?” Dr. March asked.

“Because I don’t want it. I don’t see anything good that would come out of it. I’m very set in my ways. I don’t want to change my lifestyle. He’s got a completely different life that I honestly don’t want any part of. It’s very much in the public eye, and I don’t even wear makeup. It must be really annoying getting recognized everywhere.

And god, the fans and the critics! People openly mock Pepper Potts and Jane Foster, and those are very accomplished women. Sharon Carter got death threats in the middle of Times Square when the media first leaked that they were dating. I mean, who threatens a trained spy who probably knows ninety-nine ways to kill you with her pinky finger? That’s just dumb. But still, I don’t want any part of that,” you said.

Dr. March wrote some notes down.

“Do you think moving away will help? Maybe if I moved to the other side of the world? Maybe the distance will weaken the bond? Have they colonized the moon yet?” you asked, exasperated.

“Not that we’ve observed. In all the studies, distance didn’t seem to make too much of a difference in how often or how strong the connections manifested themselves,” she replied.

“What is your worst fear if you did find your soulmate?” she asked.

You took a deep breath. “That I would ruin everything that I have right now. That I would ruin everything that  _he_  had right now. That it would be messy and complicated and…pain. There would be a lot of people hurt. I don’t want that.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“But you might be giving up your chance at ultimate happiness, the serene sense of calm, of knowing that the person you spend the rest of your life with is your true soulmate, the person with whom you were meant to navigate this world. It might take many lifetimes before you would meet him again, if ever. This might be your only chance,” Dr. March rattled off all the catchphrases of soulmate theory that you had heard before.

“I would rather spend the rest of my life not knowing that level of happiness than be the reason that causes other people pain and grief.” You sighed, letting the tears stream down your face.

* * *

Steve opened his eyes and immediately brought his hands up to shield his face.

“Oh, he’s awake,” Bruce said. “How do you feel, Captain Rogers?”

“I’m–” Steve remembered that he was in Tony’s lab. “A little parched. How long was I out?”

“About an hour,” Rhodey said, checking the monitors.

Tony began removing the leads from Steve’s face and chest.

“Did we get anything?” Steve asked.

“Nothing on visuals,” Tony replied, “but you were humming. It seems the person in your subconscious has walked with you once upon a dream.”

Steve looked at Tony, then at Bruce, shaking his head.

“It’s a song from the Disney animated movie  _Sleeping Beauty_ ,” Bruce replied.

“How is that useful?” Steve asked.

“We could just interview every woman Steve has had an interaction with within the last three months and see if any of them match the voice,” Tony suggested.

“We can narrow it down to bakers. Start with the professional ones. How many bakeries have you visited in the last three months?” Bruce asked.

Steve furrowed his brow. “Just the one.”


	4. Chapter 4

The clock over the door read 7:45. You figured you needed three large boxes to pack the day’s leftovers to donate to the shelter. It was a slow day, which was fine by you, since Padma needed the day off and you were going on three hours of sleep. If you prepped everything ready now, you could be out the door at 8:01.

You turned around to reach for the large boxes and the bell over the door jingled. Part of you cringed, hoping it will be a take out order.

“How can I–” you turned to greet the customers and was a little taken aback by the sheer presence of the men staring at you.

Tony Stark stood front and center at the case. Despite it being pitch dark out already, he still donned a pair of sunglasses. On his right was Dr. Banner, who was checking out the flavors left in the display case. Colonel Rhodes flanked Tony’s left, nodding towards the red velvets and holding two fingers up.

Clint Barton locked the door, flipped the sign over to “closed”, then drew the shades down.

Behind Tony stood Captain Rogers. His black ball cap covered his eyes, but you’d recognize that jawline anywhere, with or without beard. Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were beside him, having a heated conversation with just snarls and slight head movements.

“Mr. Stark,” you locked eyes with Tony, “a round of everyone’s favorites? For here or to go?”

“I’ll take all of them. Throw it on the tab,” Tony said. “Wait,” he turned to look at his colleagues. “You know ALL their favorites? How much business do I give you?”

“Including the corporate parties, Stark Industries accounts for almost half of my sales,” you didn’t hesitate. Just that morning, you pored over your books to figure out if selling the bakery was a viable option for you. You pulled the trays out of the display cases and placed them on the counter, along with a stack of napkins. “Please, help yourselves.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Clint went straight for the cold pot of coffee.

Sam and Bucky nudged Steve closer to the counter.

“I’m sorry we’re out of buttermilk cupcakes today, Captain Rogers. I think there are still some cider donuts.” Just saying his name out loud made your heart skip a beat.

“Please, call me Steve.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “Is there somewhere we can talk–privately?”

You felt all eyes on you for a brief moment. “Sure,” you said, lifting the counter next to the register. “This way, please.”

* * *

Steve followed you into the kitchen. You pulled the curtain shut, while the others scrambled to look pre-occupied.

Looking around the kitchen, Steve felt a strange sense of de jevu, as if this space was an old friend. The longer he stood there, the more he felt at home.

“What can I help you with?” you asked, leaning against the metal counter.

“I–I’m sorry about the entourage and it seems like you’re about to close, so–.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He had a whole script ready, but he didn’t expect you to be this direct. He had expected more small talk. He even had a few lines prepared about his favorite cake flavors. “This place seems very familiar.” He stuck his hands into his front pants pockets. “I–I’m not good with words. Are we soulmates?”

You took two slow, deep breaths. “I don’t know for sure, but it seems that way.”

“We–we can–there’s a way to confirm this,” he said.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not,” you said. “I don’t want to know. I don’t care to know. I don’t want or need a soulmate. I don’t need you in my life. And you don’t need me in yours.”

Steve’s heart felt like it was going to jump out of his rib cage. This was also not part of his script. No one had prepared him for the possibility of a soulmate rejection. A month ago, he would have wholeheartedly agreed with you, but as time went on, he felt more and more drawn to this mysterious soulmate. It wasn’t curiosity, but a genuine desire to know that you were happy that motivated him to approach you.

He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw, giving a slight nod. “Thank you for time. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.” He said.

Before he walked through the curtain, a CD case of the  _Disney’s Sleeping Beauty_  soundtrack caught his eye. “Do you mind if I ask what you do around four A.M.?”

“It’s when my shift starts. That’s when I start baking,” you replied. “Are you losing sleep too?”

“I see it in my dreams–the mixing and ovens.” His voice cracked. “And I think I hear your singing. Your voice–is serene.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Well, if things go my way, hopefully I won’t be infiltrating your dreams any longer.”

Steve turned and walked back to you. His hands reached for yours, but he stopped himself and stuck them back into his pockets. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” you shook your head. “I was just thinking of changing my schedule, hopefully syncing with your sleep schedule. Even a few nights a week would be an improvement. I’ve read that–that if soulmates are asleep at the same time, it doesn’t disrupt their sleep, as much.”

Steve mulled over this information. “I can’t guarantee–”

“I know,” you interrupted him. “Missions, all hours. I understand. It’s gotta be better than–”

“Than? What do you see in your dreams?” Steve reeled at the thought of you seeing the violence and destruction that he’s lived through.

“Nevermind.” You shook your head.

“I’m truly sorry,” Steve had an overwhelming urge to hold you. He sensed your anguish and it was killing him to know that he was the reason for it and that there was nothing he could to make you feel better.

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “Thank you for coming here tonight. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. Perhaps it’s best for both of us if you leave now.”

* * *

“I sobbed on the kitchen floor for almost an hour,” you recalled to Dr. March. “I heard them shuffling around in the bakery, and then the bell ringing as they left. Then I just sank to the floor.

It hurts. It physically hurts. The bond is real and the more I fight it, the more it hurts. But the sleep has been getting better, so that’s something.”

“I’ve searched high and low, and there has never been a case that I could find where someone successfully walks away from their soulmate. The attraction usually drives individuals to madness, if not death, if left untreated,” Dr. March said. “I’m going to prescribe something. It’s still in trial phase, but I think it will help your mental state.”


	5. Chapter 5

After about a week or so, the meds finally started doing their thing. Sleep wasn’t easy, but it happened. You woke up and weren’t tired, alert enough to drive, but there was a numbness that crept into your brain. You didn’t really taste food anymore, at least not as vividly as you used to. You knew you wanted to try some new recipes and flavor profiles, but you just didn’t have the motivation. I’ll try tomorrow, you would say to yourself.

But the sleep came. And it was better than nothing.

The bell over the door jingled, so you wiped your hands and went out to greet the customer.

“Ms. Carter,” you forced a smile. “What can I get you today?”

“I need you to come with me,” Sharon said.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll take a dozen buttermilk cupcakes too,” she said. “Charge it to Stark. But then you need to come with me. I’ll explain on the way.”

You closed the bakery, leaving a quick message for Padma, who should be in any moment now. Sharon helped you with two of the bakery boxes as you walked.

“Where are we going?” you finally had the courage to ask.

“The Avengers compound,” she replied, unlocking the doors to a very sporty looking car.

Sharon was a cautious driver with very quick reflexes. Once you were on the highway, she brought up a tablet-sized screen with a picture of Steve. He was unconscious and battered. You had never seen injuries the likes of this.

“He’s been in a coma for six days now. Mission gone wrong,” Sharon sniffled. “We were able to extract him, but they had done so much damage. Normally, he takes three days to recover, but this time, he hasn’t showed any signs of improvement yet. We thought maybe your presence could help.”

“I know my baking is good, but I don’t know if it can bring back–”

“No. Soulmate energy. It can be healing. It’s–I can’t explain it, but you get a calming effect from being physically close to your soulmate. Your hearts beat in sync, your cortisol levels drop, some people even get serotonin spikes.”

You looked at her like she had three heads.

“It’s all true. There’s scientific backing,” she said. “Look, I don’t know why you’re so against this whole soulmate thing, but the man I love is in a coma and you might be his only hope, so I’m begging you–and I don’t beg lightly, please–please help him.”

“I don’t want this soulmate thing to break you guys up,” you said.

“We can cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, I need you to save him.”

* * *

The compound had a very sterile industrial look, lots of metal tones and sharp edges and corners. Sharon led you straight to the infirmary, where Bruce and Tony were having a heated discussion.

“We’ve tried that already, Tony,” Bruce said. “We can only put his body through that so many times before it starts doing harm.”

“But what if we tried a higher frequency this time?” Tony asked.

“I have another idea,” Sharon announced. Tony and Bruce turned and locked eyes on you.

“Oh!” Tony said. “Is she going to—?”

Their voices faded into the background. The sight of Steve drew you to the window. Your muscles and joints ached just looking at him. There was an eerie sadness that washed over you and suddenly you burst into tears.

“Are you ok?” Bruce asked, coming to your side.

“He’s in–in so much pain,” you managed between sobs.

“You–can feel it? The pain?” Bruce asked.

You nodded, pressing your hands against the glass.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Tony asked.

“It doesn’t hurt to try,” Sharon replied. “What do we have to lose?”

“Is this what he would have wanted?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” Tony asked.

“Like, does he have a DNR or some sort of medical attorney of power?” you asked.

“Power of attorney,” Tony corrected. “And um–no. I don’t think so.”

“You guys all assume that he wants to come back to this,” you said. “Have you ever considered what Steve would want in this situation?”

“He’d want to live to fight another day,” Tony said.

“Would he?” You stared Tony down.

Bruce grabbed a box of tissues off the lab bench and offered them to you.

“Do you have those clean suits? Like the ones they make people wear when they visit really sick people? So that there’s no contamination?” you asked.

“Sure. I’m sure we could figure something out,” Bruce replied.

* * *

Once you were suited up, Bucky and Sam walked you into Steve’s room. He looked so small and fragile in that off-white hospital gown. He was hooked up to so many machines that beeped and hissed, and you weren’t sure where to place yourself. You took extra caution to make sure you didn’t have any exposed skin. You didn’t want any accidental soulmate initiation. At the very least, you felt that Steve should be awake for your first time. You at least owed him that after the way you rejected him at the bakery a few weeks ago.

Those few weeks felt like a lifetime ago.

“Can I move these wires?” You gestured to a bunch on Steve’s right. “I want to sit next to him.”

Bruce nodded through the glass and Bucky lifted the wires while Sam helped you get into the bed.

You studied his face. There must have been a hundred stitches along his jaw line. Another fifty above his left brow.

“You should be more careful, Stevie,” you whispered, not knowing how such a familiar term just rolled out of your mouth. You had never once called him that or even thought of him like that, but it fell so naturally.

Sam chuckled. “You know, he doesn’t wear parachutes, right?”

“And picks a fight with things twice his size,” Bucky added.

“No, I didn’t know. Do you have stories you would like to share?”

Sam pulled up a chair and sat down. “Do I? Cancel your plans for the rest of the day, cuz we got stories.”

“Do you want pre-Captain America stories or more modern ones?” Bucky asked, pulling a chair up next to Sam.

* * *

After two hours, Sam and Bucky got called off on a mission briefing. The others also seemed occupied elsewhere, leaving you alone with your supposed soulmate. This man was a near stranger yet he felt so familiar. Sam and Bucky helped lighten the mood, but you could tell they were very worried for their friend and the humor was a coping mechanism.

You weren’t sure what prompted you to lay on his chest, but it seemed like the most right thing to do. He was warm and you could hear his heartbeat that way. You laced your purple gloved fingers through his hands and soundly fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

You woke up parched and your neck ached. When you tried to stretch your arms out, you suddenly remembered where you were. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and looked up at Steve. Despite all the bruises and scars on his face, he looked at peace. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, but there seemed to be less machines around him than before.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Sharon said. “Can I get you anything?”

Was she sitting on the couch next to the door the whole time? Did she sleep there? You can’t seem to remember if she was even in the room when you fell asleep. You sat up and removed your face mask.

“I could use a hot shower.” Your voice was hoarse.

Sharon showed you to her quarters–their quarters. You took a quick glance around the room while she gathered some toiletries for you. There was a framed picture above a dresser that was taken at Central Park. A wave of guilt washed over you when you realized that it was probably an engagement photo.

“I’ll get some breakfast going. What do you like?” she asked.

“I’m not picky,” you shrugged.

The water pressure was amazing and there were all these buttons and fancy features. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and stopped. For the first time in a long time, you recognized yourself. Not that you looked any different, but you didn’t feel like you were looking at a shell of you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, but you felt different. Refreshed isn’t the word–replenished, maybe. You felt lighter mentally, yet more whole at the same time, like a missing part of you had returned home. You actually liked the reflection staring back at you.

Then you caught a glimpse of the his and hers cups with matching S’s on them and remembered that you didn’t belong there.

You quickly got dressed in the clothes Sharon had left you and wandered back down the hall to the infirmary.

* * *

“How do you feel?” Sharon asked, topping off your cup of coffee. She had wheeled in a tremendous spread for two people, but you were hungrier than you had realized, because you were on your third cup of coffee and finishing your second helping of pancakes.

“Good, I think,” you replied. “Different. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You slept for thirteen hours,” she said.

“It didn’t feel that long,” you replied, “but I guess that’s good.”

“I want to thank you again. Just you being here is helping. They said he started breathing on his own again last night. That’s significant improvement.” Sharon blinked, obviously trying to hold back tears.

You reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m glad I can help.”

* * *

They were running more tests on Steve, so Sharon gave you the grand tour of the compound. You got to see some of the Avengers do target practice, at least that’s what you thought it was. Bucky and Natasha were throwing knives at each other in one corner of the arena. In another corner, Wanda was throwing objects with her mind while Clint took shots at them. It was all very fun to watch, but it just made you feel more of an outsider, looking in, being privy to a glimpse of another world.

“Look Sharon,” you turned to face her. “I want to help you out in any way I can. At the very least, I want to be around until Steve wakes up and the doctors are sure he’ll make a full recovery. But if this is going to take a while, I’ll need to make arrangements for the bakery and I’d prefer to go back to my apartment to pack a bag.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied. “Tony actually sent two interns over to the bakery this morning to help Padma. And we can take a helicop–”

“Sharon Carter, please report to the infirmary,” a voice announced.

“Sharon!” Sam called out from down the hall, “he’s waking up.”

* * *

When you got to the window outside Steve’s room, doctors and nurses surrounded him, so you couldn’t see him. Sharon paced outside the door, waiting for some sign from the staff that it was OK to enter. When they waved her in, she reached her hand out to you.

“Are you sure? I can–I can wait out here until everything is clear.” You lied. From the moment you left the room this morning, there was a longing to get back. Your heart wanted to be physically close to Steve’s. You figured this was what they meant by the soulmates being tethered feeling.

You were sure that you would be able to resist or ignore it, but the truth was that some part of you was always thinking about Steve, whether you wanted to or not. It was just part of who you were. It was easier to fight it when you kept busy, but now that the only thing on your mind was Steve, every single fiber of you wanted to touch every single fiber of him.

“No, I want you in there with me–with him. Please,” she said.

You were pretty sure she saw through you, but since she insisted, you took her hand and walked through the door with her.

The staff buzzed around him, calling out medical jargon. Two CCs of this and four milligrams of that. Words that didn’t mean anything to you, but sounded important nonetheless.

Sharon squeezed your hand and walked towards the bed.

Steve was more alert than you had expected. They had propped him up with a few pillows and he was helping himself to a glass of water. He caught sight of Sharon first, and his smile lit up the room. It was infectious and you couldn’t help but smile a little too, seeing him so happy. His eyes trailed down her arm, and then up towards you.

You felt his eyes draw you in closer, and the next thing you knew, you were right beside him, with Sharon still attached to you.

“Hi,” he finally said. He seemed more amused than disturbed by your presence. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here because–” you stopped yourself before saying  _Sharon was desperate and I was your last hope_. “I felt–a disturbance in the force, so to speak, like I needed to be here.”

His blue eyes pierced through you. It was very subtle, but you could tell he knew you were lying. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

Panic jolted through you. You had been fighting this moment for so long, but it just  _felt_  so right. It felt like you belonged there, next to him. It felt like you should be holding his hand, even caressing him. Your brain still had doubts, but your heart was racing in excitement.

You looked at Sharon, who gave you a slight nod before letting go of your hand.

You took a step closer to Steve and touched your palm to Steve’s.

The world disappeared–blacked out around you. All your senses trained on Steve and time stood still. His touch was warm and tingled. It was such a strange sensation that you couldn’t help but laugh. You felt him relax at the sound of your laughter and that gave you the courage to reach for his other hand.

You must have sat like that for hours. Lunch and dinner came and went and you two were still attached. The longer you held his hand, the more familiar the feeling became.

It wasn’t like the love at first sight type feeling that the movies and books tried to sell you. It was like something breathed new life into you.

Sharon cut up one of the buttermilk cupcakes that you had brought from the night before and placed it in front of Steve. “You haven’t eaten in a week. Gotta get those calories in where you can,” she joked.

“You didn’t expect me to share that, right?” Steve chuckled. “This stuff nourishes my heart and soul.”

And that’s exactly how you felt about Steve. Being with him nourished your soul.


	7. Chapter 7

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” Sharon asked.

“I’ve spent the better part of a week up here,” you said. “I really need to get back to the bakery.”

“Thank you, for everything.” Sharon extended her arms out for a hug.

“Any time,” you said, wrapping your arms around her. “I’m glad he’s made a full recovery. And you guys know where to find me, if you need.”

“And you have our numbers too,” Sharon said, still holding you. “Don’t be a stranger if you need to see Steve again. It’s ok.”

You stepped back and looked her in the eyes. Her offer was genuine, which made it that much harder to accept. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you so nice to me–about all this?”

“Because I remember how it feels to be away from your soulmate. It fucking sucks,” she laughed. “After months long missions, my soulmate and I would lock ourselves up and bone for three days. The urge–”

“Oh no, no, no,” you cut her off. “There will be none of that here, I promise.” You held your hands out in front of you in the shape of an X.

This made Sharon laugh harder. “You might not feel that way now, but there might be a day. Who knows, maybe you will get there, maybe you won’t. I’m just saying, if you get there, I won’t stand in your way.”

“I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, Sharon,” you laughed, giving her another quick hug before getting into the car.

* * *

You didn’t want to admit to Sharon that the nights you spent sleeping beside Steve were some of the best nights of sleep you have had in your entire life. You thought that maybe now that you had made contact, the insomnia would be gone for good.

Of course, that was wishful thinking. By the third night, you were restless again, seeing vague images of Steve and Sharon every time you closed your eyes. You tried to fight it, trying every coping mechanism you’ve developed, but nothing worked. At the one week mark, you were contemplating taking the meds again.

Your clock read 3:30AM. You might as well get up and head down to the bakery. Maybe around lunchtime you’ll text Steve and Sharon.

* * *

You never expected to find him leaning against the bakery door when you got there. He noticed you from across the street right away. Even though it was still dark out, you could make out his bright smile. He cut diagonally across the street towards you and you found yourself rushing towards him.

When you two were within arms’ reach, you realized your cheeks were hurting from smiling. You stood there, staring into each others’ eyes. He put his hand up, as if asking for a high five, and you touched your palm against his. You don’t know what or how the soulmate bond did this, but touching him always made you giddy. He pulled you in closer and touched his forehead to yours.

“Why does this feel so good?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied, closing your eyes, understanding that this soulmate thing wasn’t going away. If anything, it kept getting stronger the more contact you had.

* * *

Since then, you two made plans to see each other at least once a week. You insisted that Sharon join you two for the outings. They were very casual–walking in the park or strolling through museums. Sometimes, he’d have to cancel, but he’d make it up to you by watching you bake the next morning. You still felt uneasy at Avengers Tower, so Steve and Sharon would come over to your apartment. Sometimes, you’d watch a movie and just cuddled on the couch; sometimes, you’d introduce Steve to a new board game.

You wouldn’t necessarily call it a romance, but he was more than a friend. You never asked for more, and he never pushed. The two of you were content with the occasional hand holding and snuggling. You thought it would be more awkward, but it was actually very easy with Steve. Just being around him made all your worries and fears disappear, even if it’s just temporarily.

* * *

Sharon threw one last magazine into her bag and zipped it up.

“You’re unusually quiet,” she said, looking over to Steve. He was sitting against the window, pencil in hand. She walked over to him and hugged him from behind, peeking over his shoulder. “That’s a pretty cake. You’ve got her on your mind?”

“How long will you be gone?” he asked without looking up.

“Two weeks, give or take,” she replied, tilting his chin towards her. He put his pencil down and Sharon could see the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. “I want status reports. There needs to be at least one real date while I’m gone and I want you to hang out with her at least one other time during the week, like we usually do. You two need to figure out what this is, if anything.”

Steve put his sketch pad down and wrapped his arms around Sharon. “I’m going to miss you,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss.

* * *

“Sharon’s out of town and he wants to take me out like on a real date and I don’t know how I feel about all of this,” you blurted.

“Do you not want to go on this date?” Dr. March asked.

“I do, but,” you hesitated. “Things are good right now. And I never wanted anything more from him. What if we cross a line tonight and we suddenly want more and we can’t go back? That would ruin everything!”

“So you don’t want more…intimacy,” she said.

“Right. And the possibility of wanting more is driving my anxiety through the roof,” you replied.

“What are you most afraid of?” she asked.

“Hurting Sharon,” you replied. “Ruining their marriage somewhere down the line.:

“And what do you want from your relationship with Steve?” she pressed.

“I–” you took a deep breath. When this all started, you would have been content to get whatever bare minimum interaction that allowed you a decent night’s sleep. As you got to know him more, you realized he was very easy to love. Even the few flaws that he had were actually endearing; he’s still a Dodgers fan and you love making fun of him for that. He’s such a good, selfless person. It was hard not to love him. “I don’t know what I want,” you said. “I think I want more.”

* * *

Steve walked behind you as you pulled your keys out to open your apartment door.

“I had a great time tonight,” you said. “That new Thai place was excellent. We should add them to the takeout rotation.” Normally, when you went out for dinner, he and Sharon would walk you home and you’d say your goodbyes at the door. Tonight felt different. “Did you want to come in?”

Steve’s eyes widened, like a deer in headlights. “I–um.” He stuck his hands in his pants pockets.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to,” you said, slightly disappointed. “You probably have really important stuff to get to at the tower.”

“Actually,” he said, taking one of your hands. “I’ve been meaning to ask you–these last two weeks. It’s felt–different.” He dropped his head and shook it, before meeting your eyes again.

There was a slight sadness in his eyes and it made your heart ache a little. “What is it? You can tell me,” you said, reaching up to stroke his face.

“Do you ever,” he chuckled nervously and shook his head again. “I hope this isn’t out of line. This is gonna sound–”

“Steve, just spit it out,” you laughed.

“Do you ever want to kiss me?” he asked quickly.

You saw that he was serious. It wasn’t a joke.

“Is that something you want? To kiss me?” you asked.

“That wasn’t the question,” he replied with a little more authority.

You leaned against the door frame and exhaled, burying your face in your hands.

* * *

(continuation, from Steve’s POV)

“Nevermind,” Steve said, shaking his head again. “It was a dumb question. Forget I asked. Look, I’ll see you Wednesday for movie night.”

You took his hands just as he was turning to leave. You slowly led him into the apartment and shut the door. When his eyes locked onto yours, any doubt he felt up to that point vanished. The slight curl of your lip was enough to give him the confidence he needed to pick you up and carry you to the couch. Your eyes never left each other.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked one more time.

“Yes.” You nodded.

You leaned in towards each other. His heart was beating so loudly, it was ringing in his ears. He instinctively licked his lips, suddenly realizing how dry his mouth felt. His breath staggered.

Natasha once made fun of him for being an inexperienced kisser. And while he thought he had made up plenty of ground in that field with Sharon, the moment his lips touched yours was something else altogether.

Your lips were soft and gentle, hesitant like his were, but he felt you through the kiss. It felt like your hearts were beating together in song. It felt like he had ascended to some higher realm, where he was surrounded by lush, green meadows and wildflowers. And when your hand found the nape of his neck, it felt like lightning coursing through his entire body and he wanted to feel–-to experience–-all of you at that very moment.


	8. Chapter 8

You checked the cake one last time before closing the box. The door swung open and Padma shrieked.

“What on earth are you still doing here?! The ceremony is in three hours! You have to get ready!” she yelled.

“I’m going! I’m going! I just wanted to make sure it was perfect,” you said, taking off your apron.

“I’ll make sure it’s perfect. Now go!” She ushered you out the door.

“I’ll see you later,” you said, “and thank you so, so much!”

* * *

You admired the bouquet of purple calla lilies in your left hand, hoping the sugar callas on the cake looked good enough. Clint and Steve were waiting for you in front of the church. Steve was fidgeting and you could feel his heart was racing, even from twenty feet away. You lifted your dress to scale the steps, praying that you don’t step on the skirt. Steve immediately offered his hand out to you.

“Are you ready?” you asked him.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Even he didn’t seemed convinced by his words.

You brushed the back of your hand against his cheek, a gesture that has calmed him in the past. He took your hand in his and squeezed.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss on the lips. “God, you are like the world’s best drug. I think I’m addicted.”

“I wish I knew how to quit you,” you laughed.

You couldn’t see it, but you swore Clint was rolling his eyes behind those shades.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Not too shabby yourself.” You straightened his boutonniere and bow tie. “I think we’re ready.”

Clint nodded and opened the church’s double doors.

Pachelbel’s _Canon in D_ came through the organ’s pipes and you knew there was no turning back. You looped your arm through Steve’s and walked side by side down the rose petal covered aisle.

* * *

Six months ago.

Steve and Sharon wanted to meet with you to discuss your  _arrangement_ , as you liked to call it. While Sharon had been so accepting of your intimacy with Steve these past few weeks, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to break.

They decided that meeting somewhere neutral was best. Walking into Nadine’s Cafe, you spotted them right away in the corner. There were three cups on the table, which meant they had ordered for you already. Steve saw you first and immediately came to your side, taking one of your hands.

“Hey,” he whispered, giving your temple a quick peck. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

You greeted Sharon with a hug and a peck on the cheek before sitting down. Steve and Sharon each took one of your hands and then held each other’s.

“Are we having a seance?” you joked. “Where’s the ouija board?”

“We want to talk about what you think you want from this arrangement,” Steve said, then pursed his lips.

“Well,” you took a deep breath. “I kinda care a lot about you two now, so I want you to be happy.”

“But what do  _you_  want?” Sharon asked.

“Honestly, I came here to save Steve and stayed for the amazing sleep,” you said, purposely avoiding eye contact with either of them.

Steve gave your hand a squeeze.

“What do you two want?” you fired back.

“I want Steve to be happy,” Sharon replied.

“But what do  _you_  want?” you repeated her question.

“I want to be with the both of you, have my cake and eat it too,” Steve blurted.

“I hate that expression.” You shook your head and chuckled. “Look, I really like you guys but I don’t care for the superhero lifestyle. I just want to bake and get some decent sleep. Yeah, spending time with you both is amazing, phenomenal even, and if I had met Steve when I was younger, I might have a different opinion. But the fact is, I don’t want to change my life. I don’t want to move into the compound or into Avengers Tower, despite all the generous offers. I want my own life. The dates are nice,” you squeezed Steve’s hand, “but they’re like something I can’t live without. Like air. I physically need to touch Steve in order to live a fulfilling life. No offense, hon, you’re much more than a body pillow.”

Steve smiled to himself.

“So what do  _you_  want?” you asked Sharon again.

“I’d like to stay in the picture, if possible,” Sharon said hesitantly. “But I understand if you don’t want me to.”

“No, I absolutely want you to,” you retorted. “If anyone were to leave the picture, it would be me.”

“But that’s not good for you and Steve,” she replied. Steve shook his head.

“I want all of us to live our lives if this soulmate thing wasn’t a thing,” you said. “It’s not possible, but that’s what I would want.” You looked at Steve.

“I don’t want to lose Sharon,” he said, “and I really can’t lose you. But it’s not fair to either of you.”

“So we’re back to square one,” you said. “Why can’t we continue the way we are? I know it’s unconventional, but if we’re all ok with it–” you shrugged.

“What if you want more down the line? More–-commitment. Kids. A family?” Sharon’s voice cracked. You wondered if these were things that she had wanted with Steve.

You shook your head. “Not for me.”

“You might change your mind,” she said.

“Even if I change my mind about kids, which is highly doubtful, I would never, ever want you out of the picture,” you said. “Is that something you want? Kids?”

Sharon shook her head. “I just want to know-–to know that I won’t wake up one day ten years from now and you two suddenly don’t want me around. I’d rather remove myself now than–-I just can’t live with that kind of uncertainty.”

* * *

Present day.

The walk down the aisle seemed a lot longer than it was at rehearsal. You took in the family faces of the small congregation, some of whom you had only met the night before. Bucky and Sam were waiting up by the altar, beaming at Steve. The bridesmaids, Maria and Natasha, looked stunning in their deep purple gowns. You wondered how many weapons they had concealed.

When you reached the altar, Director Fury, who was officiating, stepped aside to reveal Sharon. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, accentuating the v-neckline of her dress. The light coming through the stained glass windows gave her a goddess glow.

You felt Steve tense up, so you took his hands and placed them in Sharon’s.

“Who gives this man to be married?” Nick asked.

“I do,” you replied loudly.

* * *

**Epilogue.**

Wednesdays were date night and it happened to coincide with Valentine’s Day this year. You were relieved that Sharon and you finally got to a point where you didn’t feel the need to sacrifice your own needs thinking it would make the other person happy. You found that being a part of Steve and Sharon’s relationship was really easy. You showed up once a week and got your dose of whatever soulmates filled you with, and then went along your merry way. You cared deeply for each other, but you were content to not know about every time they left for a mission or the nitty gritty details of how each new scar showed up. You were always there to help mend, but you didn’t need the gruesome details. It just wasn’t the life you wanted for yourself.

There were times when you needed more from Steve, or vice versa, and Sharon was fine with that, especially now knowing she wasn’t going to get replaced. Steve was no longer nervous about treating either of you unfairly. He worked very hard to make sure you and Sharon were both content, and you and Sharon both had your ways to reassure him. You never shared a bed with Sharon. That wasn’t really her thing, but in sorting out all this soulmate stuff, you felt like you had gained two best friends.

So it wasn’t too surprising when Steve suggested that the three of you celebrate Valentine’s Day together. Walking up to your favorite restaurant, you had to laugh at the special.

“I didn’t realize they made a Valentine’s Day special just for us,” Sharon quipped.

“It was my idea!” Steve sounded so proud of himself. “Remy thought I was ridiculous!”

“You  _are_  ridiculous, Rogers, and I love you for it,” you laughed.

~the end~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picture found on facebook. Sorry for not having a proper source.


End file.
